Forgive Me
by Narev
Summary: My First Gone With the Wind fanfic! I hope you like it. I thought of it when I read it my third time. When John Wilkes kisses Scarlett goodbye. I thought... well just read it and review. rating for later chapters! A few weird things may happen


Jonathan Wilkes was a man of integrity and high honor. He prided himself in being above the licentious and corrupt wants and needs of a human body. But when he saw the oldest daughter of Gerald O'Hara he could not stop the carnal appetites that consumed his soul in fire.

Every graceful movement she made; dancing with his son and her beaux, every step she took, made his heart race and his blood burn. He knew that it was wrong to be in love with a woman that was young enough to be his daughter, but he could not help the sharp, animalistic feeling that inspired such high passion in his usually calm blood.

Nor could he explain why her flashing green eyes and thick black hair reminded him so fiercely of his dearly deceased wife, who had been as fair and delicate as the last blossom before the unyielding heat of summer. He suspected that it was her gentle smile and sweet face that really hid the mechanical and sharp mind of her Irish father. Though Scarlett tried hard to hide it, John Wilkes knew that she stared at people and her sharp green eyes penetrated and saw their weak points; in short, how she could manipulate them.And he respected that. While he had been born to a very traditional family he had never thought there was any real point in women acting like ninnies to 'catch a husband'. In all truth, gentle, sweet, stupid women bored him to tears. Which was why the late Mrs. Wilkes had enticed him so.She had been petite, with the frail body of a child. Her long, deep gold hair and large blue eyes had always made him think of a princess in a fairy tale, but after he married her he found out that she was a quick thinker that only pretended to be empty headed. It had confused him endlessly.

When she died at child birth he had been devastated, but had taken comfort in God and his son, Ashley... That was until Scarlett Turned 14 and came to his plantation for a visit. He remember the day well, the sun had been high and the air had been breathtakingly clear, due to the rain they had had for a few weeks straight. The leaves and grass had been wet and glittering with dew. And she had ridden up on her fleet footed mare, her dark hair tossed lightly in the oleander-perfumed breeze.She had been dressed in yards of deep green, watered down silk that had darkened her slanting eyes to emerald and accented her pale skin perfectly. She had been bright and pert and cheerful and in that moment when she had slid off her mare and into his arms his heart had melted.

She had looked up him and smiled demurely, her bristly lashes fluttering swiftly over her eyes. It took more willpower than he cared to admit to not lean down and kiss her. He had been loath to step away from her and her lavender scented perfume but her father had accompanied her to Twelve Oaks and the little Irishman had wanted to talk business.

So he had left Ashley to entertain Scarlett while he had talked quietly with the loud and blusterous Gerald O'Hara. While the little man had roared about this or that and John had nodded empathetically, his mind had been on the pale, green eyes beauty that had been in his arms moments before. As Gerald thundered about the insolence of his darkies John had flushed, remembering how much please Scarlett's small breasts had caused when they had been pressed against his chest for that half-minute.

Gerald mistook his coloring to be anger at his darkies and that sent him into another round of loud curses and sharp hand gestures. John had breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It would not do to have Gerald wonder what kind of thoughts were going through his mind at the moment.

John Wilkes blinked and looked around him. The room was dim, despite the candlelight. He was sitting at his desk; in front of him was a poem. He read the first few lines and smiled slightly. No wonder his mind was wandering to Scarlett and the spring day she had come riding up to him.

_Gentle sunlight, dew drops of gold_

Riding up on moonlight and the light of a star 

_Eyes of emerald green bright, hot and bold_

_Tempting gods, they come to see you from near and far_

John chuckled quietly. His poetry trailed off and he saw that he had written Scarlett many times, completely ignoring his promise to himself of forgetting about the fire eyes girl.

There was a quiet knock on the door, John looked up and crumpled the paper into a ball and then dropped into a woven wicker basket by his desk.

"Come," he said softly. The door opened silently and Ashley stood in his doorway, his golden hair disheveled from sleep. His face was relaxed and he smiled languidly.

"Father," Ashley said quietly. His remote grey eyes took in his fathers untidy silver hair and tired, yearning eyes.

"Who are you thinking of?" Ashley asked, coming into the room and closing the door behind him. He walked quietly across the shiny wooden floor.

"A young woman who I have no chance in courting," said John with a rueful smile. Ashley rose and eyebrow and sat in the chair before his fathers desk.

"I know this woman, I believe... How old is she?" Ashley asked with a smile.

"You are going to try and get to tell me who she is... It won't work," John said calmly. Ashley grinned and leaned back into his chair, half closing his eyes and surveying his father through lowered lashes.

"You've told me everything before this, Father. Why should we start with secrets now?" Ashley asked quietly.

"It would hurt the Wikes' reputation if anyone but I knew, son," John said evenly.

"I sense an and coming through, father," Ashley murmured. John smiled and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk in a relaxed fashion.

"I know for a fact that she has set out to capture your heart," John said softly, a small smile playing over his lips. Ashley frowned for half a second then sat bolt up in his chair and stared at his father in utter shock.

"You can't mean Scarlett O'Hara, can you?" Ashley gasped.

"That is exactly what I mean! Oh, you can read me to well, don't act so surprised you must have known for a while now!" John cried.

"I had thoughts and suspicions but I would have never thought... Father she's only fourteen! You can't possibly think of marrying her!"

"I never said anything of the sort, her father would be outraged and probably challenge me to a shoot out, and if you don't mind I would rather not kill a friend and neighbor," John said, leaning back and sighing in relief. Now that his secret was out he felt much more at ease. Surely his son would understand, John had seen him stare at Scarlett with a deep, hot longing in his usually calm eyes. He knew that his son had often dreamed about the minx and had heard him in hot summer nights calling out for her.

"I know I can only watch her, think of her and wish..." John sighed. "Scarlett is so full of energy and life... She is so completely different from either one of us. She is made of the high blood of the Irishman and the sharp mind of the French... Next to her we are nothing but barbarians..."

Ashley smiled slightly, his eyes glittering.

"We are completely different species than her..." Ashley said, and then leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, imaging Scarlett's soft body under him.


End file.
